That’s a full stop – a red stop sign with angled corners and a white line around it.
Resting here, my knees have buckled, in front of that sign you planted in my path.
I have walked this space so confidently, happy to share what I know, to muck in.
Sleeves rolled up, information exchanged, doing my bit to shape a bigger picture and to challenge….
How it is all done.
Over in old Ireland you wandered as a youngster in Phoenix Park.
Before you came here you played there – laughed, loved and met your sweetheart.
Rambled by the President’s house until you were brought home in a ‘government car’.
I listened to your stories, told with your Gaeilge lilt and then you turned and looked deep in.
Eyes that said you were going for good, forever.
No more Celtic Odyssey – it is completely silent now.